Phortis’ groin throbbed at the thought of Ariadne. She was striking rather than pretty but there was an inexplicable sense of the untamed, the exotic about her. It was most alluring. He hadn’t touched her, though. Nor had his men. If the truth be known, Phortis didn’t have the courage to. Who could forget the curse she’d placed on Kotys? In addition, the madwoman carried a venomous snake. Who would dare to try and fuck a creature like that?
Spartacus didn’t look like anything special, however. Just wait until he’s injured or, better, killed, in the arena, thought Phortis. We’ll see how brave the bitch is then.
Spartacus watched Phortis sourly. His haggling with the captain of a merchant vessel looked to be drawing to a successful close. ‘This is it. There’s only one place we’re going to now. Italy.’ The guilt he’d felt at the death of Olynthus and the ten others condemned to die felt heavier than ever. Curse Kotys to hell .
‘Unless the ship sinks, and we all drown.’ Getas eyed the glittering sea unhappily. It extended to the western horizon. ‘The weather at this time of year is so unpredictable. A storm could take us at any time.’
‘It could. And there’s nothing we can do about it except to ask the gods for their protection,’ replied Spartacus. ‘Get used to that idea.’
Deep in his own misery, Getas didn’t register his annoyance. ‘I’ve never been on a stinking boat before,’ he went on.
‘Prepare to vomit constantly for the next day or two, then. You won’t need bad conditions to make you feel sick either,’ warned Seuthes. ‘Just being on it is enough. You won’t know what bloody way the ship is going to move from one moment to the next. Up, down, forwards, backwards, side to side. It’s always changing.’
‘Thanks,’ muttered Getas. ‘I can’t wait.’
Spartacus wasn’t looking forward to the motion sickness either. He’d been on ships when serving in the legions, but never for more a few hours, the time it took to cross to Asia Minor from the south-east coast of Thrace. That is the least of my concerns . Seeing Ariadne approach, he forced a smile. ‘Wife.’
‘Husband,’ she answered gravely.
Because they were chained to each other, Getas and Seuthes hadn’t been able to give Spartacus and Ariadne real privacy since they’d left the village. Out of courtesy, however, they had got in the habit of moving back a step. They did do now, and began talking to each other in low voices. Spartacus felt a wave of gratitude towards them yet again.
‘Ready for the journey?’ she asked.
‘After a fashion.’
She frowned, suspecting the reason for his reserve, but not wanting to ask.
‘It’s the finality of leaving Illyria. Not for me, you understand? I’m reconciled to my fate,’ Spartacus growled. ‘It’s you I’m worried about. After I’m dead and gone, you’ll be left alone. Not only will you be in an alien land full of bastard Romans, but you’ll have Phortis trying to screw you at every turn. I’ve seen him staring at you. Wouldn’t it be better to reconsider? For you to stay here?’
‘It was my choice to accompany you. Don’t you remember what Kotys would have done to me?’ Ariadne felt sick just thinking about it. ‘Leaving with you was my best option by far! Where else would I have gone – back to Kabyle, and the crusty old priests there? Or to my bastard of a father? And as for Phortis – pah! The whoreson will get a face full of snake if he tries anything. No. My place is here, by your side.’ Hoping that her bravado was convincing, Ariadne reached out and squeezed his arm. ‘It’s what Dionysus would want,’ she lied.
He shot her an intense glance. ‘Have you seen this?’
‘No, not as such.’ Her sigh was full of not wholly feigned regret. ‘But I cannot believe that the god would want me to have stayed there, for Kotys to abuse. What would be the point in that? At least this way, I can carry his word back to Italy.
Spartacus didn’t look like anything special, however. Just wait until he’s injured or, better, killed, in the arena, thought Phortis. We’ll see how brave the bitch is then.
Spartacus watched Phortis sourly. His haggling with the captain of a merchant vessel looked to be drawing to a successful close. ‘This is it. There’s only one place we’re going to now. Italy.’ The guilt he’d felt at the death of Olynthus and the ten others condemned to die felt heavier than ever. Curse Kotys to hell .
‘Unless the ship sinks, and we all drown.’ Getas eyed the glittering sea unhappily. It extended to the western horizon. ‘The weather at this time of year is so unpredictable. A storm could take us at any time.’
‘It could. And there’s nothing we can do about it except to ask the gods for their protection,’ replied Spartacus. ‘Get used to that idea.’
Deep in his own misery, Getas didn’t register his annoyance. ‘I’ve never been on a stinking boat before,’ he went on.
‘Prepare to vomit constantly for the next day or two, then. You won’t need bad conditions to make you feel sick either,’ warned Seuthes. ‘Just being on it is enough. You won’t know what bloody way the ship is going to move from one moment to the next. Up, down, forwards, backwards, side to side. It’s always changing.’
‘Thanks,’ muttered Getas. ‘I can’t wait.’
Spartacus wasn’t looking forward to the motion sickness either. He’d been on ships when serving in the legions, but never for more a few hours, the time it took to cross to Asia Minor from the south-east coast of Thrace. That is the least of my concerns . Seeing Ariadne approach, he forced a smile. ‘Wife.’
‘Husband,’ she answered gravely.
Because they were chained to each other, Getas and Seuthes hadn’t been able to give Spartacus and Ariadne real privacy since they’d left the village. Out of courtesy, however, they had got in the habit of moving back a step. They did do now, and began talking to each other in low voices. Spartacus felt a wave of gratitude towards them yet again.
‘Ready for the journey?’ she asked.
‘After a fashion.’
She frowned, suspecting the reason for his reserve, but not wanting to ask.
‘It’s the finality of leaving Illyria. Not for me, you understand? I’m reconciled to my fate,’ Spartacus growled. ‘It’s you I’m worried about. After I’m dead and gone, you’ll be left alone. Not only will you be in an alien land full of bastard Romans, but you’ll have Phortis trying to screw you at every turn. I’ve seen him staring at you. Wouldn’t it be better to reconsider? For you to stay here?’
‘It was my choice to accompany you. Don’t you remember what Kotys would have done to me?’ Ariadne felt sick just thinking about it. ‘Leaving with you was my best option by far! Where else would I have gone – back to Kabyle, and the crusty old priests there? Or to my bastard of a father? And as for Phortis – pah! The whoreson will get a face full of snake if he tries anything. No. My place is here, by your side.’ Hoping that her bravado was convincing, Ariadne reached out and squeezed his arm. ‘It’s what Dionysus would want,’ she lied.
He shot her an intense glance. ‘Have you seen this?’
‘No, not as such.’ Her sigh was full of not wholly feigned regret. ‘But I cannot believe that the god would want me to have stayed there, for Kotys to abuse. What would be the point in that? At least this way, I can carry his word back to Italy.
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